Elani
by blue candlelight 13
Summary: Being re-written up to chapter 4. Elani's brother has abandoned her to join some Fellowship. There's only one thing to do; sneak out after him. She'll encounter dwarves, new friends, and strange places. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...
1. Chapter 1

AN; I totally accept that my story sucks, so I am about to re- write it. Hope that won't get anyone mad! So, here it is! Elani, without cheesy flashbacks, half-sues, and overdone plots!

I am fuming. I swear, I want to march all the way over to wherever-the-heck Legolas is and beat him up (let's pretend for a second that I'm stronger than him). He promised that it was a simple excursion to Rivendell, just to see some friends.

I just found out now that it was a council of war!

No one ever tells me anything. I hate that.

It might have something to do with the fact that I have the maturity of a 12-year-old. And that I am a girl. And that I show ineptitude at every instrument of destruction I've come across (though I am good at acrobatics).

And that I'm technically a princess of Mirkwood (that's another thing I hate), and "Daddy's Little Girl. I'm not sure if I hate the last part.

And of course he has to join some stupid fellowship or something to go and destroy something, something there is a very small chance he would make it out alive!

Why couldn't my brother have taken up something less dangerous as a hobby, like knitting or baking? Yes, I know he wouldn't be caught dead doing any of those, but they're better than going on random quests or adventures that always end up with him nearly dying!

"Um, my lady?" said the unfortunate messenger who had to ride here to tell us this. "Are you quite alright?"

I realize that I had been saying that entire rant out loud. Oops. "Yes, I am fine, if a little shaken up. I am sorry you had to listen to a collection of my inner thoughts."

"I heard nothing, princess," he says, though with a wink.

"Thank you."

As he goes away, I feel another rant piling up in my about the stupidity of being called 'princess' and 'my lady'.

A girl a bit older than me comes and calls me to dinner. She's flawlessly beautiful, about 5 feet tall, and has golden hair, streaming down her back.

I am shorter than average and nothing fancy, unlike my older sister, and I have dirty blonde hair. It's down to my armpits, because of the time I got like and they had to cut it off. And my legs are hairy.

Hairy, short, not beautiful, previous lice. Maybe I was adopted, because I sound like I'm a dwarf.

"Thank you. I will be down shortly," I say, giving her my best 'regal' smile.

I go change into an outfit considered appropriate for a princess to wear, then go down to the dining hall. Everyone else has started eating. I start a little bit when I see my two other brothers, Nestarion and Bellconion, and my older sister, Vanya. They're thousands of years older than me and have already moved out to different parts of the kingdom. Even Legolas is two-thousand years older than me. Sometimes I wonder if I was meant to happen.

Father smiles and beckons me over. I sit down where I am supposed to and start eating silently. Normally, it's a lot louder at the table, with Legolas telling a funny story and making me laugh. Then I'd tell a not-so-funny one from my day, and Legolas would laugh anyways. That's not happening now, because my other siblings have been rolled in starch, and had their tongues clipped. They speak politely and sit up straight. They have fancy elvish names, not random syllables strung together like mine. I hate my name. I used to pretend I was an Egliriel, but not anymore.

I wish I could be with Legolas, on a quest to wherever the heck he's going. Wait, I could! "Father," I say primly. "Where is Legolas going on his quest?"

He brings a map out and traces the route for me. I realize there is one part where I could intercept him. Hmmm. Maybe I could save the world.

Who am I kidding? I don't know anything about weapons, and Legolas would get really mad. He'd probably send me straight back home.

Then I remember a theory I had; that you don't have to do anything you don't want to. He couldn't make me leave…

One other problem…

I had never been outside of Mirkwood. Heck, I had never been more than 25 miles away from the palace.

Oh, well. Remember my theory? It could also translate to; you can do anything if you want it enough.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N; hope you liked that! Here comes more! By the way, in my head-cannon, then there are lots of elvish and dwarfish children. If you don't like that for a reason, feel free to tell me why.

I watch the soldiers sparring for days, observing their footwork, the way they hold the sword or knives, and how dance-like it is. I try it out in my room, and sometimes on the training field at the darkness of night. I tell no one about this, no one but Polengoldur.

Who is he? It's a long story.

In the elvish scholarly curriculum, there is a part where you write a letter to a boy or girl about your age in another city. I wrote to him, and though we were only required to do a few letters, then almost no one continued. Me and him, however, we hit it off right away. We've maintained a fast friendship for 10 years. He's the only one I can tell my true feelings to.

With him, I'm not a princess, or a child. I'm just… me.

I practice with the short sword (the long one is too big for me) and occasionally twin knives. I can see a bit of improvement, but not that much.

I do this for nearly 40 days, before I decide I am ready. I still could not beat a trained warrior, but I might be able to survive an orc.

I study maps for another week, learning where I need to go to meet up with the Fellowship. Poring over them in the dark of night, then training a bit more, leaves me sore and tired in the morning. My tutor notices, and talks to my father about it. When he questions me, then I tell him I haven't been sleeping very well, but that it's nothing.

Finally, I am ready to go. I leave a note, and start off running, going as fast and as far as I can, so that they will have a harder time catching me.

I'm off to find my brother.

Of course, I forget one thing they have that I do not – horses.

They catch up to me after a day. Surrounding me from all sides, with swords pointed at me and everything.

"Elani," says the chief, "Time to go back. You had your fun, but your father's very worried for you. Come back now, or we'll knock you out and carry you with us by force."

"My dear guard," I say, trying to find a way out desperately, "I have a proposition. You could just let me go. I want you to say you could not find me, or that I am under the Fellowship of the Ring's protection, or perhaps just that I escaped. It is a good deal, if I do say so myself – I get to go free, and you get to relieve yourselves of me for a while."

"No deal," says the guard. He doesn't take care of me on a regular basis, anyways. That's my tutor and my nanny's problem.

"If you let me go – "

"No deal."

Then I realize the horse he's riding is MY horse, Sandstorm. What does he think he's doing? That is MY horse. MY horse!

Granted, I rarely ever ride her, but she's still a Yuletide present from my parents.

Then I realize what to do – Sandstorm is my horse, so she wouldn't kick me. I hope.

I crawl under Sandstorm's legs, hearing the confused shouts of the guards, and run as fast as I can.

Of course, I miss all of her hooves, but get whiplash from her tail. Typical.

There's a little knot of trees nearby, and I leap towards it, adjusting my pack as it tries to slip off. I scurry up a tree, going as high as I dare to go.

Climbing trees is one of the things I'm best at. Some others are acrobatics, running, and making up horrible jokes no one gets.

They stand around the tree, looking up at me. One guard starts to climb it. I climb higher, but all elves are naturally gifted at climbing trees and eventually I'm caught.

"Come down, Elani," says the heaving guard. "Your father is anxious."

"Please," I say, "PLEASE, let me go see if my brother actually does not want me. I need to know this. If he does not want me with him, then I will go back. If he does, then I will continue with them for as long as it takes."

He removes his helmet, and I recognize a guard I see a lot. "Elani," he cautions, "You're setting yourself up for a huge hurt. He went on the quest to get away from his family and hometown, not to have it skipping up to join him."

"No, he will want me. I am positive he will."

The guard called down the situation, and the chief grudgingly agreed. They knew I'd keep on trying to escape until I couldn't anymore.

The guard shifts over just a tiny bit, making it easy for me to jump down and take off running.

I run for a long, long time. Finally, I get to the part where I'd apprehend them, and I wait for a long, long, time.

It takes a long time, but I see them. A pack of nine. There's a wizard who I think I dimly recognize, a couple of men, one who Legolas is talking to, four small things, and finally, ew, a dwarf.

And my brother.

What if he sends me back? I'd be honor-bound to keep my promise and go. I run out to meet him. He turns, and his face goes from shock to confusion to anger. "Elani?" he asks.

_He'll want me, _I think. _He has to want me. _


	3. Chapter 3

A.N; hi, guys! I'm not sure if you have realized that I'm rewriting this, but I am.

"Elani! What the * $%^$# *&amp;($$% &amp;^*%$ do you think you're doing here?" Legolas says, striding over to me.

I flinch. Legolas never swears… at least, I don't think he does. "J-j-joining the Fellowship…" I say, making it sound more like a question.

"Well, you can't, okay? Go back home, now."

"Who's this?" the man my brother was talking to asks. "One of those girls constantly chasing you around?"

Legolas has girls chasing him around? I didn't know that.

"No, this is my sister," he says tiredly.

"You have a sister?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he does, and she is right in front of you, waiting to be acknowledged." I say. I hate it when people talk about me like I'm not there.

"Please, Legolas, please let me come with you. I will be useful, I promise."

"How?" he asks. "You can't cook, we don't need someone to clean, and you can't fight. You can't do anything!"

"That is not true!"

"Really? Which part?" He bends closer to me, so that no one can hear. "Elani, get out of here. I came on this quest to see the world, to get out on my own, to become Legolas, not the third son of the king of Mirkwood."

I don't understand the difference, because Legolas is and will always be the third son of our father, the king of Mirkwood, but I decide to play it to my advantage.

"Why do you think I came?" I say. "I've always been the baby, the child, the one that wasn't meant to be. You've been able to go into the wilds and out of Mirkwood. I can't even do that! Did you ever think I was suffocating against court rules? Did you ever see them trying to turn me into something I'm not? Did you-"

"Elani, enough with the theatrics. Get out of here. Right now." Legolas hisses.

He shoves me away. It hurts – both my arm and my feelings. "You don't want me?" I ask.

"No."

I don't go back to Mirkwood. I'm breaking a solemn oath, but I try not to think about that. I stay on the outside of the firelight, far enough away so that I wouldn't be disturbing them, but close enough that I wouldn't lose track of where they are.

They all look steaming mad, but no one confronts or even acknowledges me. I've been doing this for 3 days when the food runs out. I had been living off the land before – in my tussle with the guards, all the food spilled out of my pack – but nothing here looked familiar to Mirkwood's forests anymore. I didn't want to risk it.

My stomach growls every few seconds. It doesn't like me not giving it anything to eat at all. The stew one of the small things is making smells so good… I just want a bite. Just one bite.

One of the small things – I think I hear everyone else call them hobbits – is making dinner. That's Sam, I think. I've learned nearly all of their names by now. He looks guilty, to be sitting here cooking food while my stomach is growling. He takes a piece of bread from his pack to tear into chunks and put in his stew. Bread…

What happens next happens so fast I don't even have time to process it. A piece of it sails towards me, and I catch it in my lap. I devour it. Bread has never tasted this good.

When I look up, Sam is watching me. "Thank you," I mouth. He nods.

Sam sneaks me food for a while, just enough to let me survive, but enough. I follow Aragorn when he's foraging – he makes no effort to lose me - and learn a bit about wild plants. Boromir, Merry, and Pippin get into a loud discussion on their favourite types of fish, and end up telling me exactly how to catch them.

I wonder… could they all be intentionally helping me?

It's the middle of the night, and Legolas pulls Aragorn aside. "You're intentionally helping her," he says. "What part of the world being too dangerous for an elf with the maturity of a 12-year-old, and a girl at that, do you not understand?"

"The part where it seems like she's level-headed enough to survive the world," Aragorn says. "Don't you see? She's you at that age! You were inseparable from Nestarion, though it annoyed the heck out of him. You weren't trusted with weapons. You were insecure about everything. You had naïve ideas, so no one took you seriously. You spoke and acted properly – and I mean puffed up like a peacock properly – although, anyone with two eyes could see the turmoil happening inside, the real you trying to break free."

Both Legolas and I flinch at the same time, hearing that, because it's the essence of me – it's who I am, although not even I had realized it was.

I think it was then that I realized Aragorn was special, different. He saw who people really were – her saw their souls.

"Yeah, so maybe that's me at that age, but I'm still not letting her go on a quest like this. It's likely some of us will get killed, Aragorn! Don't you get how I wouldn't be able to live with myself if my baby sister died and it was my fault?"

Aragorn chuckles, but there is no laughter in it. "One thing about the both of you that I forgot to mention; you're both incredibly stubborn, for good or for worse. I don't think you have a choice."


	4. Chapter 4

A.N; hello! I am alive! Be warned – lines will be changed, stories will be tweaked slightly. And, yes, I know Middle Earth doesn't have popsicles – I am taking poetic licence.

He really didn't have a choice. I crept a bit closer to the fire every night, and they slowly began accepting me and talking to me. I raised my friend total from 1 (Polenguldor) to 7 (Polenguldor, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Boromir, and Aragorn).

Gandalf was, in my opinion, a bit proud, almost conceited. Gimli was – well, a dwarf. And Legolas was my brother. You can't be friends with your brother, no matter how much you love him.

It seemed like all fun and games at first – a group of friends going on a fun 'adventure', like the ones I used to go on through the castle as a child. I think I first realized this wasn't a game when the crebain came.

We were mostly lazing about. Some of the men were smoking, Sam was cooking, and Boromir was teaching me, Pippin, and Merry how to swordfight. We were taking turns. At mine, I may or may not have lost my sword, tripped over my own two feet, turned an accidental backwards summersault, and nearly pierced myself on Gimli's axe. So much for being quite good while practicing by myself.

They all laugh, and without thinking, I backflip up like I've been practicing. Everyone stops, blinks twice in complete synchronization, and started asking me how I did that.

"It's my hobby… well, more like my passion. Acrobatics – gymnastics – is the only thing I'm really good at."

Boromir looks quite proud. "That's your thing!" he says. "That's the thing you're good at! It's what's going to help you stay alive in a battle."

"Acrobatics? How would that work?"

"So, say that I'm swiping at you," he says, demonstrating. "Sorry, Elani, but you're not particularly strong – not enough to successfully block it every time. You, I don't know, do one of your fancy tricks, but they won't be expecting it, because it's so different from your usual opponent's moves."

"You're right," I realize, and I beam, because now I'm doing the thing I love, and doing it with something to keep me alive.

"Wait, what's that?" asked a hobbit.

"Nothing," Gimli replied.

"You idiot, they're crebain, from Dunland!" my lovely brother says. "Hide!"

"Who are you calling idiot?" roars Gimli.

Sam rolls under his cooking pot. Gandalf pretends to be a tree. Aragorn lies in a mud puddle. Merry and Pippin freeze where they're standing - and both fall over. Gimli and Legolas don't hide, because they're too busy arguing. Boromir crouches down with his shield on top of his head and pretends he's a mushroom. Frodo does his dead hobbit impersonation – which is quite impressive, I might add.

"Idiots," I mutter, before crouching and hoping I look like some wheat or grass or something.

This may not be how you heard it. In the way you heard it, everyone was all perfect and quick-thinking. I'm telling it how it happened.

The birds swept around us, not even noticing we were there. If these are Saruman's spies, they're not very good ones. But still, it was scary. They pressed in so close I could feel their greasy feathers. Their beaks and claws drew blood when they weren't even trying – imagine what it would be like it they were.

Actually, I'd rather not.

We got up shakily, threw rocks at a couple birds to make them stop trying to eat Frodo, and packed up our stuff to continue walking.

"Wait!" Gandalf said.

"What?" we all asked, annoyed.

"We must take the Cadharas path!"

"Why?"

"Because I said so, that's why. Now get moving!"

Sometimes – well, more like all the time – I really hate that wizard.

So, because Gandalf said so, we hike up the mountain. Sure, elves don't feel the cold. Sure, we can walk on snow. But maybe that only happens once you reach adulthood, because I was floundering like a hobbit.

The snow is blinding. I'm basically walking in a slightly curving line, stepping where everyone else does. If the path suddenly changed directions, we'd all walk off a cliff without even realizing a cliff is there.

"I swear," I scream to Boromir, although with the winds, it turns out as a mutter. "We're all going to die up on this mountain and we'll turn into Elanisicles and Boromirsicles and Frodosicles and Gandalfsicles and everything else but a Legolassicle. He'll prance around us without his hair even slightly messy and be all, 'I told you so'."

"No! I'm too important to freeze into a Boromirsicle!" he says, pretending to collapse in… I don't know, agony of the idea of dying. Boromir can be kind of weird sometimes.

We've become just about best friends – except that I'm a whole lot younger than him. We're like one of those rare brother-sister relationships that involve them actually liking one another.

Not everyone is laughing and joking like us. The hobbits are drowning in snow, which I didn't even think possible. The dwarf has to keep his head up at all times, or he'd be eating frozen water. My brother is prancing on the surface, mocking us. I stick out an arm to trip him, but he hops over it. Gandalf's robes are completely white from the snow. I guess he's Gandalf the white now. Aragorn's nose is red and fingers are blue, but he's acting like a manly man and isn't borrowing a pair of gloves from anybody.

"Okay, this isn't working," Boromir says. "Me and Aragorn, we'll go up in front, to break a path. Elani and Gimli, can you to reinforce it? Hobbits, you'll go after them, and Legolas as scout up front, and last, Gandalf as rear guard. Is that okay with everyone?"

As we all hurry to move where he tells us, Frodo trips and falls. He somersaults down the mountain – down the path we had been going up, not the side, thankfully – and when he gets up, we realize the ring is gone.

We all search frantically for it, because how dumb would it be if our awesome adventure finished with 'And then the glorious Fellowship of the Ring plus Elani lost the Ring in some snow and Sauron took over the world'?

"I found it!" Boromir mutters, picking it up from in front of our feet. Immediately, everyone's eyes snap to the ring. Well, everyone but Sam. He helps Frodo up, making sure he's okay before turning to see what all the fuss is about.

The ring glints and gleams, and I can't see anything but it. It promises me anything I could possibly want. My mother – to have known her – to stop being laughed at behind my back, for my brother to look up to ME for a change… the list goes on and on, and I'm ashamed of most of it.

"Boromir," Aragorn warns. "Boromir, give it back to Frodo."

I'm strongly reminded of two children fighting over a toy, with Aragorn as the teacher or something.

I see Boromir's knuckles clench around it. When he opens his mouth, I'm nearly positive he'll refuse, and that would be bad to the extreme sense of the word.

"Here it is," he says, giving it back. He walks back towards where he was supposed to be, in the front of the line. I got the feeling of a calamity barely diverted.

The dwarf and I are walking beside each other. There is the awkwardest of awkward silences between us. "Hi," I say, just to break the quiet.

"Hello."

"Why don't you like me?"

"Because my father, cousins, and friends were captured and put in prisons by your father."

"I wasn't even born then! It's not MY fault!"

"If you say so. Why don't you like me?"

"Um, well, you see," I splutter, "I guess… everyone who raised me hates dwarves?"

He turns to me. "Listen. Form your own opinions. Don't let anyone tell you how to think, because that's one freedom everyone has, and it shouldn't be taken away from you."

Gimli taught me a very valuable lesson that day, one I would use for the rest of my life.

"Can we be friends?" I asked him.

He grinned, and his whole face was transformed. "Sure."

Well, I guess that raises my friend total to 8.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE; thanks to mjg43 for reviewing, and thanks for saying it's nice. Also, thanks to badwolfsonnets and leadowl for favouriting, and lauren6498 and xc2010 for following. We're up to 243 views! And remember; drop me a review; babysitting or holiday. And a bonus; totally weird crazy thing!

CHAPTER 5

There is a figure lying on the ground. Hair spread out on the ground, hair the same colour as mine… I run towards him. Fast. But even still, everything slows down. I can see the blood gushing from his wounds. I need to save my brother. I'm not going to let him die. Something grabs onto me. I turn around, and look at an orc. He smiles, revealing rotting teeth. "Well, I wanted to finish off killing your mother. But you'll do…"

"Elani! Elani! Wake up!"

I sit up. Someone is screaming like they're about to be killed. It takes a few moments to realize it was me. I have to really try to close my mouth.

"Sorry, everyone. I just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

Everyone tries to. I can hear them shifting around. Legolas approaches me. "I thought you said those didn't happen anymore."

"They don't." I cross my fingers behind my back.

Aragorn comes after he's left. "You lied, didn't you."

"Yes. I can't stop them, though. They come every night, more or less, whether I want them or not."

He hands me a rag. "Stuff it in your mouth."

"Thanks, Aragorn. And I'm sorry about the pranks."

He shrugs and walks away. I wonder if that's a 'you're forgiven', or an 'I'm going to sulk about it for a bit more before saying it is fine'. I hoped the first.

Aragorn seemed to be second in command. I didn't want to anger him. That, and I respected his opinion.

_This was one of the first times I had the dream in a long time. I missed my Naneth. The assassination attempt wasn't what prompted my mother to sail, but I always thought of it as the beginning of the end. The orcs were what really did._

_ Just a regular ride. Just the 3 of us; Naneth, Legolas, and I. Adar was supposed to come too, but he had too much work. I suppose that's a good thing. I'm not sure I could have taken the loss of two parents that day._

_ I shared a horse with Naneth. Legolas was bragging about his new one; his first horse. _

_"We'll get you a horse soon, too," Naneth whispered. I smiled. I loved horses. _

_Suddenly, Naneth stiffened. "Orcs," she whispered. I gasped. I was still a tiny elfling, too small to go on patrols, but I had heard tales of them. Legolas' face hardened. He had heard of them, alright. He was already a commander of his troop._

_ Naneth and Legolas had a quiet discussion. I couldn't hear anything more than the urgency in their voices. She steered the horses over to a hollow tree. She picked me up, and hid me in it. _

_"You too, Legolas." _

_"Naneth!"_

_ "I need you to protect your sister." He nodded, and climbed in, too. It made things a bit squished, but I was scared out of my mind. I didn't really care._

_ Naneth turned away._

_ "What is she doing?" I ask my brother. "She's going to hide in another tree. Now, shush." _

_I shushed accordingly. _

_We heard the orcs streaming in. No one else had footsteps that loud._

_ "Look, boys!" I heard a rough voice shouting in the common tongue. "An elf! Fresh meat on the menu tonight!"_

_ My mother. They had found my Naneth._

_ I buried my face in Legolas' shoulder. He covered my ears, but watched the whole thing unblinkingly._

_ The covering my ears didn't help. I still heard everything. A soft thump – my mother falling from the tree she was in. the sound of a sword being pulled from a scabbard – a sharp intake of breath. "Take it slowly, now, boys – we want her to last." Several more intakes. And finally, a scream. Laughing and jeering. "Time to go, boys. All that's left to do is wait for her to bleed to death."_

_ More footsteps – this time getting softer. We wait a bit for good measure, than burst out of the tree. _

_There's a THING on the ground. Covered in red stuff. It has read skin, red clothing, red hair…._

_ And that thing is my mother_

_._ But right now, it's a beautiful day. Pippin, Merry, and Boromir are sword fighting. Boromir is tackled and tickled. When Aragorn tries to stop them, he gets tickled too.

"Kick 'em in the shins!" I shout.

Legolas is talking, but I don't pay attention. Suddenly, I see a flock of…birds. Something about these birds aren't right.

"Hide!"

Everyone takes for cover.

"Those were crebain from Dunland," Legolas says once we get out of hiding.

. "We must take the Cadharas path," says Gandalf. I look up at the huge mountain. Oh, no.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE; thank you Elas, for once again reviewing. We're at the 333 views mark; come on, let's see some more. And remember, babysitting, holiday edition, or… (Drumroll, please!) All of the characters in the story pretending to be another character for a day! Let me know!

We started climbing the mountain. It was easy for Legolas and I, being elves, but all that meant was that we had to carry more stuff. I'll admit, I'm not the strongest person there is, but this load made even Legolas falter.

At one point, the Ring fell from where Frodo keeps it, in a chain around his neck. It glinted, and it was beautiful.

I hear a voice in my head. This normally isn't a good sign, but… "Elani, pick me up!" it says. "Your father will be proud, Legolas will be following you instead of you following him, you can convince Arwen not to give up immortality, and we can call your mother back from Valinor. Don't you want that? All you have to do is pick me up!"

I know it's wrong. Of course it is, we need to destroy the thing. But some part of me… just a small part…

Oh, who am I kidding? Most of me wants to listen to it. After all, it is promising me my heart's desire.

Boromir picks it up. "So strange that we suffer a fate like this for suck a small thing…"

"Boromir, give it back to Frodo," Aragorn says. I'm strongly reminded of a fight between two elflings who wanted the same toy, with Aragorn as the one who installs reason.

"It means nothing to me," Boromir says. He even ruffles Frodo's hair. I wince. I hate it when people do that to me.

As we settle for camp, I search out Boromir.

"You feel it, too." It is a statement, not a question.

He doesn't answer for a while. "Too?"

"What?"

"You said, "too". It's calling you as well?"

I didn't answer again. "What did it promise you?" I ask.

"Gondor restored, my father…" he suddenly clams up.

I smile, but it isn't a happy smile. "You have daddy issues, too?"

"Not exactly, but my brother does."

"Faramir?"

He nods.

I notice everyone is preparing to go to sleep.

"Well, nice talking to you, Boromir."

"You, too."

Elves aren't supposed to feel the cold, but I'm not exactly warm as I go sit down to go to sleep. There are no trees, so I press close to my brother for body heat.

"We cannot do this!" someone shouts. I think it is Aragorn, but I can't see anything within a two- centimeter radius. It could be a giant butterfly for all I know.

I think someone else is talking, but the wind sweeps their words away. So much for elven hearing.

"We must go through the Mines of Moria!"

A deep, instinctive fear wells up in me.

But Frodo decides in the mines, and I suppose he's right. It would kill us all to be up there much longer.

Well, maybe not Legolas and I. But the rest of them.

We're at the doors to the mines. Everyone is sitting around. Gandalf is puzzling over the door. I don't try to help. I'm not good at riddles.

Merry and Pippin are throwing rocks at the water. I resist the urge to join them.

A flash of silver crosses my eye as the doors open.

"Good job, Gandalf!" I say. We aren't friends, but we're no longer enemies.

Before he has time to acknowledge it, all craziness breaks loose.

Tentacles emerge from the water, picking up the Ringbearer.

I do nothing to help. My brain is taking some time to process the tentacles reaching out from the water.

We shut the gates, and are plunged into utter blackness. I try not to panic.

I suppose there's no turning back now.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE; thank you for the third time to Elas for reviewing, and we're now up to 412 views! Remember, you have to tell me which bonus chapter you want, as otherwise, I'll wait 'til we hit 1000 views!

By the way, I'm not sure if Moria really had children, but I always pictured it like that, with kids playing everywhere.

Anyhow, on with the story!

We look around the dark chamber, trying to make something out.

Gimli is ranting about the splendors of Moria. I catch the end of the statement – "And they call it a MINE!"

"This is no mine, it's a tomb!" Boromir says.

We all look at the dwarf skeleton he found, with an arrow sticking through its head.

Legolas walks over to it, and plucks the arrow out, examining it. "Goblins…" he says.

I think Gimli is going to break from a mixture of rage and grief. I know the feeling. I've felt it every time a patrol comes back, with only one, two – or sometimes no – survivors.

It's instinct to try to comfort him, but I don't. I know he wouldn't appreciate it, and that he's trying to conceal his emotions. I've felt the same way countless times.

We move on because we have to, because the city is in carnage, with no one left breathing.

"Were there families here, or was it some sort of war camp?" I ask Gimli.

"Children running around, laughing, men and women working at the forges. This was not a war camp! There was innocent people here, babies who wouldn't hurt a fly!" he says quietly, but I can hear the intensity in his voice.

I look around at the destruction with even more horror. Babies, dwarflings – or whatever dwarves called their offspring – once played where I stood. And now they were dead.

A flash of light catches my eye. I look down, and pick up a small tin figure of an oliphaunt. I tuck it in my pack, as a memorial to the children whose graves I stood on.

I knew I was supposed to hate dwarves, but I liked Gimli, and this sight would have won over anyone's heart.

I didn't tell my brother about it, though. I knew he wouldn't see it in the same way.

"The wealth of Moria was not in gold, or silver, but in mithril," Gandalf tells us.

I can see the bands of silver stretching across the rocks. Even though I'm experiencing claustrophobia, I have to appreciate the beauty.

"Bilbo had a mithril coat," someone says. I'm not paying attention, too overwhelmed by the beauty of the rock.

"That was a kingly gift!"

"I never told him, but its worth was more than the Shire."

Frodo made a small squeaking noise. I turn to him. He looks confounded. I suppose the shock of nearly being eaten by the Watcher is wearing off.

"Recovering from shock?" I ask him.

He gives me an odd look, the look the palace servants give me when they see the decapitated doll I've nailed to the door of my bedroom. The back-away-from-the-crazy-person look.

I move along in the group, because Frodo's not answering.

We're in a passageway, a dark passageway, with no veins of mithril to take away from the walls pressing in at all sides.

"I have no memory of this place," Gandalf says.

"Please, hurry in deciding which one to pick," I beg him.

"Why?"

"Claustrophobia is kicking in."

Of course, Pippin and Merry are no help.

"Walls pressing in around you…"

"Crushing you…"

"Suffocating you…"

"Shut up!" I say, though I can't pull back the smile on my face.

Finally, Gandalf chooses a way, and before long, we're in a huge cavern. Gandalf lights his staff as a torch to let us see around. I'm shocked at the hugeness of Moria.

There's a gleaming white tomb in the middle. It is Balin's tomb. I'm not quite sure who he is, but by the way Gimli is weeping, I gather he was a friend of Gimli's.

Gandalf starts to read from a logbook. I don't pay attention, but watch, as if hypnotised, as Pippin reaches out to touch a skeleton beside a well. It's not going to end well, but I can't find it in me to stop him. I know he needs to be stopped, but I can't do it.

When the skull, then body, and finally bucket falls down, I wince loudly with every bang.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf says…

And then we hear the drums.

We only have a few seconds to get ready before the orcs come. I stand beside the door, where they won't notice me and I can slip in between them, stabbing them in the back.

I've killed spiders before, but this battle was different. I didn't show any sympathy for the orcs, didn't feel any, but I felt like a monster. The spiders never cried out when you stabbed them. The spiders never looked at you. The spiders weren't capable of speech.

I didn't even notice the cave troll in the heart of the battle. Not until I heard Frodo cry out in pain and saw him on the edge of the cave troll's spear.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

A.N; sorry I didn't update last week! I was really busy. We're halfway to our 1000 view mark! And remember, tell me which special chapter you want.

Pippin and Merry attack the cave troll. Legolas climbs up the thing and shoots it in the head. Me, I start killing orcs as fast as possible, because the cave troll's already dead, and there has to be SOME way to avenge him.

I try not to think of what this means for Middle-Earth. The Ring Bearer is dead.

We finally drive all the orcs out, and rush to Frodoas a body.

"Frodo!" I shout as I slide on my knees to his side (ouch, it hurt. Not recommended on a floor covered in dead bodies). "Are you dead?"

Maybe not the smartest thing to say, but I wasn't thinking, okay?

He groans, sits up, and says, "Not dead."

"But you should be dead! You have to die now, because you need to be dead."

"Are you unhappy I'm alive?"

I take some time to think about that. "No, but how are you not dead?"

He seems to start taking off his shirt. I close my eyes, until I see everyone else gasp. I peek, just a bit.

Frodo is wearing chainmail under it, and it looks just like the really pretty rocks we were looking at – mithril!

"The hobbit has more to him than meets the eye," Gimli says. I can tell he approves.

"Can I – can I touch it?" I ask. He says yes, and I run my fingers over his sleeve. It feels like nothing I've ever felt before.

"Wow."

"Well," says Gandalf, "time to go."

We run down the passageway – because there are still orcs after us – and it widens out to a huge room, full of orcs. We are cornered.

We prepare to fight, when a strange wailing is heard and they all scurry away. I see something fiery in the distance.

"A balrog," Gandalf says. "This is beyond any of you. RUN!"

Legolas used to tell me bedtime stories, and in almost all of them, the main villain was a balrog. It used to scare me to death, the way that he described the monster.

Now I see my brother's description didn't do it justice. I feel like wetting my pants.

We sprint as fast as possible. I overtake all of them – I can beat Legolas in a race easily – but as I don't exactly know where we're going, I have to double back a lot.

We come to a bridge with a part missing. We take turns jumping across. I have a scary moment when as I jump, part of the bridge crumbles under me. I make it easily, though.

We have another scary moment when so much of the bridge crumbles, Frodo and Aragorn can't make the jump. They manage to get across, but all I can think is, 'Why does our ring Bearer always have to be the one in the most trouble?'

We should have gotten one monsters didn't decide would be tasty and who bridges don't crumble under.

We continue our sprint. Orcs are now shooting down at us – 'Cowards,' I think – and it's all we can do to dodge them.

We come to a very narrow bridge, one with no rails, and a bottomless pit stretching below it. We go across it as fast as we can.

Gandalf is the last. He turns, and faces the balrog, which is right behind us now. I look into his face, and I do wet my pants, just a tiny little bit.

Gandalf is speaking, but I can't hear a thing. Everything is on mute. I am paralyzed by the horror of the monster.

Gandalf's staff flares, a light that nearly makes me go blind. Everything comes off mute. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" he screams, and cracks the bridge. The balrog plummets into the abyss.

I smile, nearly cheer, until I see the whip that hovers just above him. My laugh turns into a scream.

Gandalf's legs get swiped out from under him. He is dragged to the edge of the broken bridge.

"Fly, you fools," he says, softly, but intensely.

Then he just… lets go.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

A N; 665 views! And … yeah.

"NOOOOOO!" Frodo screams.

I am trying to process. Gandalf just fell into the abyss. Gandalf just fell into the abyss.

It's just not adding up. Gandalf can't have fallen. He's… well, he's Gandalf. I think the hobbits – especially Frodo – are screaming. I'm not sure. Everything sounds distorted, like I'm underwater.

Someone, Legolas, I think, is pulling me up the stairs. I offer no help, but I don't fight either. I think I am in shock.

Everyone is sobbing, once we get to the light. Well, the hobbits are, but I can tell everyone is downcast. We have just lost our leader. Well, they have. I was never officially in the fellowship.

I think Aragorn is telling everyone to get up. Boromir argues with him, just a bit. I can tell by the tone of his voice. And then Aragorn says something, and Boromir gives in.

I was still underwater. I couldn't hear anything.

We start walking, fast. It is about 2, maybe 3 hours before the shock wears off, and I start feeling sad.

I don't cry, though.

I haven't cried since Naneth sailed.

_Legolas somehow got her onto his horse. I was sent to run ahead on the horse Naneth and I had been sharing. _

_"__Naneth!" I scream as soon as I see another elf. "There was orcs, and they caught her. And there was orcs…"_

_"__Hush," he says, and I realize he's in the uniform of a palace worker. I realize he works in the stables. He helped me get Naneth's horse ready today._

_We raced at breakneck speed to where I had left her. The elf ran off with her – or, rode off._

_She was on death's doorstep for a week. Than two. I didn't get to see her at all. _

_Ada didn't tell anyone what he was going to do until he did it. He strapped her on a horse and rode off. He came back a week later. Alone, except for the horse. _

_"__I took her to Valinor," he told Legolas. "They're the undying lands. She can't die now. She'll be safe."_

_I realized something as I ran to my room. We didn't know for sure that being in the Grey Havens made you immortal. And you weren't immortal on the boat ride._

_The only thing that kept Naneth alive was the constant care of the healers. She was probably dying right now. Maybe even dead._

_I cried in my room for 3 days. The sheets were soaked, because I stayed in bed the whole time. _

_I hardly ate. I think Legolas had to feed me, because I couldn't do it myself._

_The thing that kept me in bed for a month after that was a simple, bone-crushing fact. _

_I hadn't said goodbye. _

_And now I'd never be able to._

We soon arrive in Lorien. It's beautiful, I realize as I peer around.

Gimli is talking about some elvish witch. I don't pay attention.

"I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!", he says.

Then we all got a face of pointy.

Someone steps forwards. I dimly recognize him as Haldir, from a visit to Lorien maybe 100 years ago. I didn't like him. He treated me like an annoying puppy and threw dirt at me. And then I threw a rock at him and he went crying for his mother.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," he says.

I don't like it, but I keep my mouth shut. I'm not in the mood to have dirt thrown at me. So what if he was the equivalent of 10 and I, 3? I still want to throw a rock at him.

As if Legolas has read my mind, he approaches me while Aragorn goes off to talk to him. "No throwing rocks at Haldir. We want to be on good terms with Lorien."

"What if he throws one at me, first?" I whine.

"Then duck."

Haldir decides to take us to the Lady of the wood. Uh – oh. Galadriel.

We walk for a long time, and I warn Merry and Pippin; "Look, Galadriel, she can get inside your head. It's creepy. I just wanted to warn you."

They look at me, shrug, and say, "Okay!"

I consider writing a 'no trespassing' sign on my forehead but don't.

Once we get there, Celeborn speaks. I try to pay attention, but his voice is so boring, that I can't. I have a short attention span.

_Elani… _I hear a voice in my head say.

Darn! I knew I should have written 'property of Elani' on my forehead


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

A N; 825 views! Yaaay! Thanks to Hardyxlover for following my story. I feel so loved… I normally don't dedicate chapters, but this one goes to my youngest sister.

Anyhow, here we are!

I look up and down the line. Galadriel seems to be doing the same thing to everyone. I wonder how she manages to talk to 9 people at once. That's just kind of weird.

_I prefer calling it a talent…_ well, Galadriel, I call it weird, and seeing as this is my head, I automatically win any arguments between myself and unknown forces such as creepy ladies who have no sense of whether or not thoughts should be private!

Everyone is staring at me suddenly. I know I did not just say all that out loud. I couldn't have said all that out loud.

_You said all that out loud._ DARN IT!

I calmly walk over to the edge of the platform and jump off before I could do any more harm. I hear exclamations of shock, and Aragorn muttering, "That's Elani for you," and Legolas saying, "It's okay, she does this all the time. She's probably in a tree somewhere."

He's right. I'm in one of the beautiful trees of Lorien, trying not to bang my head on the beautiful bark as punishment for my little rant back there. Not because it would probably hurt, but because it wouldn't be fair to the poor tree.

I sit for a little while, until the fellowship comes out and heads off in a direction. I creep after them, with the full intention of creeping after them and screaming, "BOOOO!"

Instead, I hear a child's crying.

I turn around and see a small girl clutching a ragged toy of a horse. "Oliphaunty!" she cries. "You okay?"

I realize that she's only pretending to cry, and that she's doing it on behalf of the horse, who seems to be named Oliphaunty.

"Hello," I say, squatting down so that I'm eye-level with her. "What's your name?"

"Eruva," she tells me. ( AN; this translation I got to mean Diana. I just like the name)

"Well, I'm Elani. Where's your parents?"

She tells me that her sister was watching her and that they got separated when Eruva threw Oliphaunty into the forest because they were playing healers and someone needed to be hurt.

That made no sense, but I decided not to question her. I decide to bring her to Haldir, who might know the girl.

"Can I pick you up?"

"No, I big girl. I walk."

So we toddle along at the pace of a turtle, and then the pace of a snail, because Oliphaunty wants to walk, too, and that means me hunched over, putting Oliphaunty's feet on the ground and walking like that.

Finally, I get the idea to tell her Oliphaunty is tired, and that he wants to be picked up, but that he will be very lonely so high up, so he wants Eruva to be carried with her.

So I finally manage to pick her up, but she's a lot heavier than you'd expect. We are moving a bit faster, though.

We wouldn't have caught up to the Fellowship at all if we hadn't taken a wrong turn and bumped into them.

They seem to be holding back laughter as they see me, holding a baby in my arms.

Finally, Aragorn manages to crack out, "Who's the father?"

Then they all collapse into laughter.

"Hah-hah, very funny." I turn to Haldir. "Haldir, do you by any chance know her?"

He shakes his head.

Suddenly, Eruva squirms so much I have to put her down before I drop her.

"What is it?" I ask her.

"The bad guys! They bad guys! They have pointy, and pointy no nice! They no nice! They eat elflings like Eruva! In soup!"

That in itself was funny, but then Boromir turns to Sam and asks what exactly was in the stew we ate last night, it's hysterical.

We all collapse into laughter, and Eruva proceeds to sit down and cry.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"You laugh at me! No nice!"

"No, Eruva, we weren't laughing, we were… making happy sounds!"

She quiets and looks at me with huge hazel eyes. "Happy sounds?"

I feel horrible about lying but I say, "Yes."

"Oh, okay!"

She jumps up and Haldir says he'd take her to Galadriel. I come too, because Eruva will not come with Haldir by himself.

Once we get there, it turns out an older child had come here, crying, saying that she had lost her sister. We reunite the two, and they go off, determined not to mention this to their mother.

_Beware, Elani,_ I hear a voice in my head say. _You will not be so childlike, should you continue on this._

Once I'm back, I pretend I'm not unnerved.

I plop down on the couch in the corner, draw and invisible line no one is allowed to cross, and tell them not to wake me up if they know what's good for them


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

AN; Oh gosh, 966 views! Thanks to absolutely everyone who reviewed (aka Silkef and guest).

By the way, I'm glad you think it's funny. I didn't mean it to be, but I'll tell my little sister you think she's funny. I'm sure she'd appreciate it (you did mean her as the funny thing, right?)! (By the way, my little sister was the model for Eruva).

By the way, I'm daydreaming about chocolate while writing this, so that explains the part with the coat.

Well, story time!

Do you know the absolute worst way to get up in the morning? I'll tell you. It's having a bucket of ice-cold water poured on your head by two hobbits.

So, my day started as it normally does, chasing two certain hobbits around, screaming death threats, then falling in a mud puddle that they obviously put there.

Sometimes, I hate my life.

When Legolas sees me, all he says is "Elani, take a bath."

"Why?"

"Because you're covered in mud."

"It's not my fault Merry and Pippin put a mud puddle where I was sure to fall into it."

"Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?"

"Who, me?"

But in the end, he won. So I set off to find a pond.

Once I did, I waded in, fully clothed. (Hey, my clothes need washing, too.) I swum a few laps, tried (and failed) to do a handstand underwater, and finally sat at the bottom of the pond to think.

Everything was crazy, now. Heck, I didn't even know I was signing up to save the world when I joined the quest. Sometimes, I thought it would be easier to just stop it all. Like, freeze time. In a way as final as death. Hey, if the entire world died, would this whole business stop?

A flash of movement catches my eye. I look up and see Frodo and Sam. They seem panicked.

I swim up and break surface. "What is it?" I ask.

"Oh, nothing," says Frodo, looking relieved. "You were just under there for so long, we got worried."

I smile. "Thanks. That's kind of sweet."

"By the way," said Sam, "You looked like you were doing some heavy thinking in there. Penny for your thoughts?"

I recount what I was thinking about. For some reason, they look a bit disturbed. Odd.

I head to the place we were all sharing to dry off. I threaten bodily harm to anyone who comes in, as I need to change, and start wringing out my clothes.

I'm trying to dry my hair when someone knocks. "I'm decent," I call.

Legolas storms in, looking furious. "You were thinking about it again!" he accuses.

"What?"

"You know what! If you start thinking about things like that, then you're supposed to tell me!"

I realize what he's talking about. "Look, Legolas, I've stopped thinking about that! I'm not grieving as much anymore!"

"You still need to tell me these things!"

I explode. "You both had an outlet! Adar had his work, and you had your training! What did I have? The roof of a high tower and a frayed rope! Is it any wonder I tried to jump? No, it isn't! So stop bothering me about it!

I storm past him, past the other members of the fellowship, who were obviously listening in to our argument.

I storm around until I can't see any sign of civilization, then plop myself down, resting my back on a tree, and cry. I don't like being reminded of what happened that day on the tower.

_Adar had his work. He buried himself into it, not eating for days on end sometimes. Legolas had his troops, and training. He seemed to relish going on patrol, slaughtering orcs by the tens, as if they could make up for Naneth's death._

_Me? I had my hideout._

_It was on the roof of the tallest tower in the castle. The room at the very top used to be our playroom, where we battled dragons, wargs, and orcs, and saved middle-earth too many times to count. No one knew I came up there except for Legolas, who had given me a piece of rope to tie around my waist so that I didn't fall. It was the only place no one came, a place of relaxation for me._

_It was the anniversary of my Naneth's death that day. A full year since she had sailed, and I was feeling down. I missed my mom so much, it hurt. _

_I wanted to see her. The attempt to sail had gone badly, but what if death was the same, getting you to Valinor? Then, I'd be with her._

_If I jumped, I would die, and I'd see her. I was only 85, and wasn't thinking very well. I scooted over to the edge, and leaped over, sure that it would only hurt a bit, and then I'd see Naneth. It couldn't possibly hurt as much as breaking your arm, could it?_

_Midway to the ground, I realized I didn't want to die. I realized Naneth wouldn't want me to. I braced for impact, because nothing could catch me in time…_

_Except for the spike that stuck out from the castle's walls, serving no earthly purpose before, and that day catching me by piercing my shirt through, saving my life._

_Legolas had to come by, and saw me hanging a few feet off the ground by a bit of fabric. "What happened?" he asked._

_I should have said that the knot that kept me secure on the roof slipped, and that I had fallen. But like an idiot, I told him the truth._

_He's never trusted me as much since, always worried that I'd try again. I'd learned my lesson, but he didn't seem to recognize it. It's been 59 years, but my brother can stick to a job, no matter how long it takes to complete._

I don't even realize Boromir has sat beside me until he taps me on the shoulder. I start talking, explaining, without even realizing I was. He's good at this, because he doesn't make judgements. He just listens patiently.

He leaves after a while, sensing I want to be alone. I am eternally grateful to him, for providing me an outlet and listening to the ramblings of a crazy girl.

I can't believe how quickly it has become time to leave. One second, I was trying to persuade everyone to play manhunt (Merry, surprisingly, won), and the next second, we're packing our bags and leaving.

Galadriel lined us all up beside one another, and presents each of us with a cloak – except me. I pretend not to notice, although the others are sneaking glances at me. I wonder why she didn't give me one.

We are now all getting our own little gifts. A scabbard, a belt, some daggers, a box of dirt – horrible present, I think-, and three hairs (creepy), were some of them. Finally, she comes to me, holding a bundle of cloth.

It is some sort of a coat that she gives me, with tons and tons of pockets – inside, outside, up my sleeve, even –and one of those awesome hoods that you can pull on a string to make close up on your face. It goes down to my knees, which makes it look a bit too big and it's not very warm, but who cares? It's made out of the same material as the other's cloaks, so it will change colour.

But the best part is the heaviness in one of the inside pockets. I peek inside, and there's one of my absolute favourite candies – an elvish delicacy called chocolate. I grin. Galadriel winks at me, and moves on.

We hop into three boats, and we're off, back on our journey again.

At least this time I have sugar along with me.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

A N: my gosh, I have over 1000 views! I never expected my story to go THIS far! I'm sorry I didn't update last week. I had a camping trip. Anyways, on with the story! This is a short chapter, but it seemed like a good place to wrap up. We're done part one!

The boats were boring, and I kept getting elbowed in the gut by Aragorn, as I was sitting on the same bench as him. At least I got to row sometimes, though. That was fun.

We passed two amazing statues on the way. They were so big! I wonder how they were carved. Maybe with magic, because I couldn't think of a better answer.

Once we rest, then I pull myself out of the boat, drag myself over to a tree, crawl up the trunk, and collapse in its branches, sleeping soundly.

A little while later, I'm shaken awake by my brother, who looks grave. "Frodo and Boromir are both missing," he tells me. "We need to go find them."

I nod, swing out of the tree, and set off, with Gimli and Legolas beside me. We look around for any signs – any at all – of Frodo or Boromir. I suddenly remember how Boromir's eyes had gleamed when he looked at the ring. He hadn't… had he?

I hear a sound – we all do. I stand stock-still, my eyes closed, trying to pinpoint it. When I open my eyes again, then Legolas and Gimli are gone. They must have gone in the direction of the noise, expecting me to follow.

I'm normally perfectly comfortable in the woods, surrounded by trees, but I feel unnerved. I want someone with me, because something doesn't feel right. Something feels horribly wrong, and I'm scared something might have happened to someone in the fellowship. They've all become my friends, and I'd hate to lose someone else.

I take a path at random, trying to find where that noise came from. I'm running now, with two of my knives out. I'm incredibly worried, though I have no reason to be.

I stumble on a clearing, and take several things in. 1; there are weapons all over the place. 2; there are bodies of what look like orcs, but bigger and scarier. 3; there is a figure lying under the shade of a tree, and someone kneeling beside it. Are they – no, they can't be Boromir and Aragorn.

But as I get closer, I realize I'm right. Boromir's eyes are closed, like he's unconscious. I can tell he's in trouble. But if he is, why isn't he doing anything? Unless… but Boromir is a warrior. He wouldn't have been killed easily.

There are arrows piercing him. The situation is serious. "Aragorn!" I shout, sliding on my knees beside him. He starts. "Why aren't you doing anything? This could be fatal! You have to hurry!"

He looks at me, with sad, sad eyes. I know before he tells me, just like months ago when Legolas told me he would be joining the Fellowship.

"No, don't say it…" I plead. As if that could stop it from coming, this horrible news I do not want to be true.

"He's gone, Elani. He's gone."

"Liar…" I say, like I said that day months ago. "Boromir is not dead!"

Aragorn motions towards Boromir's wrist, telling me to take his pulse. Telling me to see for myself.

I pick up his hand and press my fingers to his wrist. Nothing – none of that steady beat that means someone is alive. I search on other places on his wrist, attempting to find his pulse. Nothing.

Shock hits me. This is Boromir, who sat next to me only a few days ago while I sobbed. Boromir, who I was friends with from the beginning. Boromir, who was more than a friend to me – he was my brother.

And now my honorary brother is dead.

We put him in a boat, and send him out into the river. I think of his brother, who he was absolutely devoted to. His brother, Faramir, who will never be able to see his sibling again.

I have a lump in my throat, the kind that doesn't go away, that stops you from speaking. I see Boromir being swept off to somewhere I will not go. The sea.

Legolas holds his arm out to me, and I collapse into it. He hugs me, bending down to be at my level. Stroking my back in that awkward way he has.

They are talking now, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. I will join them in a few seconds. But not now, as I pack my bag, scatter the ashes from our fire so that it will not relight.

I walk over to them, but they seem to be wrapping up.

"We will not abandon Merry and Pippin…" Aragorn is saying.

A fresh shock wave hits me. Pippin, Merry, who are now surrounded by orcs to be taken to who-knows-where. And Frodo and Sam, who are all alone, to take the ring to Mordor. Sweet Sam, who could cheer me up just with a small sentence in his odd way of speaking. Frodo, who I would come to be mad, as he'd do nothing more than listen to me rant, then laugh with me about how silly I sounded. Merry and Pippin, who could always pick me up with their wit and antics.

They are running in the direction of the orcs now. They turn back to me. "Coming, lass?" Gimli asks. I run over to them.

"Let's hunt some orc!" Aragorn shouts.

"Yes!" Gimli says, laughing slightly. Legolas smiles.

Me, I run as fast as I can. To justice, and adventure, and saving the world.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

A N; we're on to two towers! Finally! School's almost out now, so I might be able to update twice a week.

PS; I found some major screw-ups to chapter 1. Their father is the king, and I know Legolas is older than that, but I like things to make sense, and that made sense, each elf year being _ human years.

I love running like this – going as fast as I can for as long as I can, with no one to call me in for dinner or for lessons with my tutor. I'm not too organized about it, however – several times, I run in a direction we're not supposed to go, and they have to scream to get me back on track.

Gimli doesn't seem to like it, however. He's not as fast as he could be – maybe all the armor – but he's a good sport about it, which is one of the things I like about him. I'm glad he and my brother are now good friends. When did that happen, anyway? One second they're complaining about each other, the next, they're never apart.

I'm so busy thinking about this strange friendship that I didn't notice the rock in front until I'm sprawled over it after having done a rather impressive summersault.

Boromir chuckles as he hurries to offer me a hand.

Wait- no, he doesn't. Boromir has floated over a waterfall and is either smashed to pieces at the bottom or drifting off to the sea. I miss him. I miss him a lot. I wasn't even that close to him, but I miss him.

We have stopped. "Rohan," Aragorn says. "Home of the horse-lords."

I frown, trying to remember what I have been taught about this land. My tutor had drilled several facts into my head – I can't remember any of them.

Aragorn now turns to Legolas. "What do your elf eyes see?"

I brush myself off and hurry over to them, wondering why no one asked me what my elf eyes see. Maybe because Legolas is the one that doesn't trip over rocks or roots or his own two feet. "They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" he says.

Isengard was where Saruman lives. Oh, no. I do not want to go up against someone who apparently beat Gandalf.

Gandalf… yet another casualty to this quest.

We run another night, without stopping to rest. I still do not tire, though I keep a steady pace now – no wild flights through the plains.

Legolas watches the sun rise – I shield my eyes. I only get one pair of eyes for my life – I don't want to damage them.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night." I roll my eyes, quite sure this is not true.

I spot a figure – several figures – coming in our direction.

"The riders of Rohan," Aragorn says. He, Legolas, and Gimli all come out of their hiding places in one move, and I am stuck on the outside as a ring is immediately formed around them.

As they talk, I realize this is one of the very, very, many instances on the quest where I have felt useless, a burden or left out. I knew this quest wouldn't be easy, but I think I've underestimated my own skill, wit, and training in military areas. For one of the first times, I wish I was more experienced, older, or a boy. Any one of those would make this a lot easier. The Fellowship has accepted me at this point, but the people we have met on our journey haven't always.

Once they have finished talking, my friends swing up onto some horses and ride in the direction of some smoke. They only then seem to notice that I'm gone, as they look around. I run out to meet them. Gimli is already on Legolas' horse, so I have no choice then to climb up on Aragorn's. This arrangement does not make sense, but who am I to question it?

Aragorn fills me in on what happened, without pointing out how slow on the uptake I was. I silently thank him for that. But wait – Merry and Pippin – possibly gone? This couldn't be true. They're some of the toughest, luckiest people – hobbits - I've ever met, even though they can't defend themselves well.

I decide to put them out of my mind. We're riding to see if they are dead, but knowing them, they'll probably jump out of a pile of burnt orc bodies and scream, "Boo!"

But as soon as we arrive at the site of the battle, then I'm not so sure. This is a place of death, blood, and gore, not one for two hobbits to jump out screaming, "Boo!"

We look, still, searching either for them, or their bodies. We're hoping for some sort of wound that made them appear dead but not really dead, because the other option is that they're gone.

Soon, we have no choice but to accept that our friends are gone forever. It's like when Gandalf died, and a barrier surrounded me, blocking out the rest of the world.

_Pippin poking me "What do you think would make this lembas taste better?"_

_"__If it was in different flavours."_

_"__Like strawberry," says Merry._

_"__Raspberry."_

_"__Blueberry."_

_"__Ale!"_

_"__Pipe-weed!"_

_"__Seriously?" I say._

_"__Sorry."_

_"How about chocolate?"_

"_Chocolate?_

_"Yes - it's delicious."_

_"Better than ale?_

_"Or pipe-weed?"_

_"Yes!"_

_"That can't be true."_

The thing that brings me back is Aragorn kicking a helmet. It sails over my head, and if I had been a few centimetres taller… I don't want to think about it.

"Got that out of your system, Aragorn? Really? Kicking a helmet? That's got to be a new low for you."

The words are out of my mouth before I can think about it. Aragorn's face turns pale, and he folds his lips in, which I have learned means he's incredibly angry. I've never seen this look directed at me, though.

"They are dead!" he screams at me. "Pippin and Merry! They are dead! How can you be sarcastic like this when they are dead? Have you no feelings?"

"I have feelings – this is my way of dealing with it, with things so bad you can't comprehend it!" I roar, stalking over to him. "They were probably closer to me than any of you, except for Boromir! And at least I'm not trying to take off my companion – who has been very useful on this trip, by the way – I'm not trying to take off her head!"

"Useful?" is all he says, but it knocks the wind out of me. I am so incredibly hurt by this one word. It was what I feared, what has been at the back of my mind for these entire months.

I kick him in the shins as hard as I can, for there is no words for what I am feeling – no family- appropriate words, at least.

I stalk off to the far side of the pile of bodies, and start to cry. It reminds me so much of just a while ago with my fight with Legolas, when Boromir came to comfort me.

Gimli appears, just peeking his head around. "Elani?" he says tentatively. "We've found the place we need to go – Fangorn Forest.

I look at the tall trees, and I gulp. Normally I like trees, but these ones seem ominous.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

AN; sorry for the late update! We have 1234 views! Yay, cool number alert!

I cross my arms and hug them close to my body as I look around me. The trees are so big… it's scary, almost.

Gimli sees a stain on a leaf, and for some reason, tastes it. He spits it out. "Orc blood!" he says, grimacing.

Part of me wants to laugh at Gimli for tasting a random substance. But the last time I mocked someone, it was Aragorn, and now we aren't speaking.

Actually, he's talking right now. "These are strange tracks," he mutters.

"This forest is old, full of memory and anger." Legolas says. My brother has an annoying habit of stating the obvious. I'm quite sure everyone could tell that, even Gimli, who scorns trees of all kinds. "The trees are speaking to one another," he adds. I strain, and I can hear what sounds a bit like the trees talking. I'm not as good as reading it as Legolas.

"Gimli!" Aragorn hisses, quietly for some reason. "Lower your axe."

He does.

I sense something, and start to speak, before I remember I'm not speaking to Aragorn. Legolas, however, also picks something up, and starts hissing to Aragorn in elvish that the white wizard approached.

We all get our weapons ready, Aragorn his sword, Legolas his bow, Gimli his axe, and me, two knives in each hand.

A blinding light appears. We all try to attack it, but everyone's weapons are bounced off – and since I was going for a direct attack, I end up sitting on the forest floor with a possibly damaged spine. I squint through the light, trying to make out the figure behind it. I can't.

He speaks, and his voice sounds awfully familiar, for some reason. "You are searching for two young hobbits," he says.

"Where are they?" Aragorn says, grabbing his sword again.

I'm almost positive I know this voice, although I'm not sure why I know it, or how I know it. I do not know Saruman, so how do I know his voice? I pay no attention to the words, listening instead to the rhythm of the words, the slight accent.

It sounds almost like…

But he's dead.

"Who are you?" Aragorn interrogates. "Show yourself!"

When the light fades, I'm right! I jump up once and clap my hands just once, in a way most unbecoming for a warrior. "Gandalf!" I breathe.

Gimli and Legolas bow. I end up doing a combination of a bow and a curtsey, as I don't have a skirt of, so I can't curtsey, but my palace upbringing is forcing me to curtsey.

"But… you fell." Aragorn says, as if solving a hard equation.

He nods, and tells us his adventures. "Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

You know, I've met some people who can tell tales that make you think you're living right beside them, in the middle of their adventures. Gandalf, evidently, is not one of these. But he still is pretty cool. I mean, who else falls down a pit and ends up on top of a mountain?

"Gandalf…" Aragorn breathes, like he has finally found the answer to that tough math equation.

"Gandalf? Ah, yes, that was my name… Gandalf the grey. You may now call me Gandalf the white! Come, war has arrived at Rohan. We must ride to Edoras."

I'm not completely sure what good we can do in stopping a war, but who knows?

Once we have gotten out of the forest, Gandalf whistles. I clap my ears over my hands and wish I could whistle. I try it now. Nope – nothing.

A beautiful white horse is galloping towards us, faster than I've ever seen anything move before. "That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell," says Legolas.

"Your eyes are cheated by some spell. Can't you see it's a donkey?" I say. Gimli chuckles quietly.

Slowly and deliberately, the horse picks up some grass from the ground, chews it deliberately, and spits it at my face. Now everyone is laughing.

We all mount, me behind Aragorn. "I'm sorry", I mutter. I hate apologizing, but it seems like this is a worthy cause.

He turns around – which is quite dangerous on a moving horse – and smiles. "Me, too."

To Rohan we go - to turn the tide in a war.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

AN; 1378 views! Cool!

It takes a while to get to Edoras, the main city of Rohan. It's a bit grimy, and the houses are small, with a few animals and children scattered around. Everyone is staring at us, with our shining armour and the fact that Legolas, Gimli, and I are not human.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard…" Gimli mutters.

Just before we get to the big hall where the king would obviously live, I realize they've been shooting looks at me. "What?"

My brother has seemingly been elected spokesperson. "Well, you see, we… are a … war party, or at least … we want …to seem like one, so, well, you see… that, rather…"

"Spit it out, already!" I snap, exasperated.

"We're-not-sure-you-should-come-into-the-hall-with-us-at-first." He says.

"What?"

"It might make the impression we aren't warriors, but… well, you know what I mean."

"Fine," I say, debating whether or not to be mad as I slide off the horse. I decide on not, because it's the truth. "I'll come up in 2 hours, okay?"

I walk off before he can respond. I had better make friends with the people, on behalf of everyone else.

I push my hair over the tips of my ears, so they can't see I'm an elf, and approach a cluster of boys about my age leaning against a wall of a house, or sitting on a fence.

I walk right into the center and say, "Hi. I'm Elani." They all look at me, sizing me up, debating why I did this.

"The girls are over there," says the leader, pointing towards a gaggle of giggling girls. At least, he's the biggest, and the others seem to look up to him.

"I think I'll stay here. I don't like girls." I saunter over to the fence and sit down, smiling at a boy of around 11.

"So you don't like yourself?" one individual asked.

"I'm not a girl." I say.

"You're a boy?"

"No, I'm an elleth, or female elf." I tuck back my hair to expose my ears and keep to myself that I'm really an elfling, if we're getting technical.

They are impressed, though they're trying not to show it.

"What are elves like?" the boy beside me asks.

"Like humans, except more annoying - especially my brother."

I think I've made a few friends, which will be good. We talk for two hours, or until I can go into the hall.

I steel myself on the steps, hoping I won't make mistakes like in Lorien. I'm on the first step when I nearly get knocked over by a pale man with black hair.

Actually, I do get knocked over. And I land in some mud. Maybe this isn't my day.

I get up and am brushing off my clothes when I get knocked over into the same puddle by the same man, who is currently running from… something. The man with a crown on his head, the king, perhaps?

"Hail, Theoden King!" says a man. I kneel with everyone else.

So the man is King. He smiles, before it is replaced by bewilderment. "Where is Theodred?" he asks those around him. "Where is my son?"

It turns out his son is dead, killed by orcs. Poor son.

I look around at the beautiful place. "Wow," I breathe. A woman is walking up to us.

"Who are you?" she asks. "I'm Eowyn."

"Elani," I say, taking the hand she offers. "You've probably met my brother and his friends."

"Which one's your brother?" she asks.

"The dwarf – no, not really. I wish. Legolas."

"By the way, Elani isn't an Elvish name, is it?"

"No." is all I say. My mother used to love telling me the story of how my parents couldn't find a name that worked, and the day before I was born, Naneth heard voices chanting, "Elani, Elani." and even though it was a whole bunch of nonsense stringed together, she loved the sound of it.

There is something about Eowyn that I like, though she is almost 10 years older than me. I think we'll end up being friends.


End file.
